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years of my life on a dusty property in Wyoming, I still rarely left the farm. But they were wrong. I’d been to Middle Earth and Hogwarts and Dickensian London all in the past month or so. The difference between
My family. A small, mythical crew of people who got excited when I came in the front door from work. Pretty hard to envision, really.
“Everyone has a time when they need a lot more than they can give. It doesn’t matter how much you hate it. It’s just true.” I squeezed her hands tightly, not knowing any other way to make the truth sink in. “But—” “Four years ago,” I cut her off. “I hitchhiked two thousand miles from Wyoming to Vermont with strangers. I begged for food, Lark. I knocked on strangers’ doors, and I asked if they had anything I could eat. And then I showed up at Isaac’s door with nothing. Not even shoes. I hated doing that. It made me feel like useless garbage. But sometimes there’s no choice.” As I watched, her
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swallowed thickly every time she said this. The logic of it had already made inroads into my mind. The hard part was letting it into my heart.
“Every time you confront the things that scare you, it’s a step back to feeling like yourself again. Right now it feels like you spend all day talking about your sorrow. But it won’t always feel like that. Every time we stare it in the face, it becomes a little more banal.
Look kindly at yourself. That’s all I ask of you.
and how much you needed me. I’ve spent the last couple of months hating my own neediness and feeling terrible for it. But of course I didn’t judge your moment of need at all. I was happy to be there for you.
